A New Century is Dawning
by Cosmo Penn
Summary: This pretty much picks up where the movie leaves off. Sorry about the lame title, i was under pressure. This is my first fanfic so PLEASE review and tell me what you think idk if i'm any good at this.You if you read this and the newsies are awsome. thaks
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1. Going to Irving Hall

The boy Newsies continued to ooh and ahhh even after Sarah and Jack had separated their lips, and were now in a tight embrace with David and Les, but David soon grew tired of holding his little brother up with them so he set Les on the ground. This, however didn't discourage Les at all, he was still hugging his siblings and friend as though he would never let them go.

Les looked up at Jack, eyes still wet with tears from a time when he thought his hero, the famous Cowboy of the east coast was leaving him forever,

"Now what Jack?" he asked smiling, "We beat em, so what do we get to do now?"

"Now yous get to be Newsies," Jack laughed and rumpled Les's hair.

All the kids who had shown up for the strike were still jumping around and acting crazy with happiness and excitement.

"I don't get it," David said watching them in amazement, "They don't have anything to do with us saving a couple cents. I mean we got what we wanted but what do they get?"

By this time Denton had pushed his way through the celebratory crowd to congratulate everyone once again.

"Hope David," Sarah said as though this was the obvious answer, and Jack put his arm around her neck, smiling.

"Yeah what's wrong with you Davey Boy?" asked Jack smiling.

"Their right David," Denton replied, "I said it before and I'll say it again this city is built on child labor. Look at them all. Now they feel empowered, now they have a voice, and you Jack, you're the one that gave it to them."

Jack looked away from Denton and smiled uncomfortably. Though Denton had his own second thoughts about how participating in the strike would affect his career, he didn't know about Jack's, and now that they were over Jack was ashamed to admit they existed in the first place.

"Yeah I guess, but more David than me," Jack said quietly.

Immediately after Jack said this Racetrack, and Crutchy came crashing into all of them nearly knocking the group over.

"Hey Cowboy, Davey," Racetrack said, "We was thinkin a headin over to Irving Hall, and havin ourselves a little carousel iffin you knows what I means."

"Yeah David!" Les said eagerly.

"I don't know," Sarah said, "David some of these boys get rowdy, and I don't think Mama would want Les around them too much."

"Oh come on Sarah," Les said.

"Yeah," Race joined in, "Come on Sarah."

"You gotta come, we all do," said Crutchy.

"Well now you do have to go, I mean just look at Crutchy," said Jack, "He's heartbreakin,"

Jack then tackled Crutchy to the ground, both laughing hysterically as Crutchy attempted to get his stick back, and Jack held it out of his reach teasingly.

"Well I suppose but only for a little while," Sarah said, "you boys have to wake up early tomorrow so you can actually sell papers, and not just rip them up."

"The kid will be fine," Racetrack assured the concerned sister, "I'll keep the little guy under my wing the whole time, you gots nothin to worry about."

He then literally took Les under his arm, and handed him the rest of the cigar he had been smokin. Les put the cigar to his lips and inhaled deeply. He then went into a terrible fit of coughing. Sarah looked at Jack for reassurance who smiled back, and lit up a cigarette of his own.

"Virgin lungs," Race said smiling, "Give it a couple days."

The group then made the strenuous attempt to actually leave the rally to head to Medda's. Jack gave Crutchy back his walking stick, and then all six of them tried to push their way through the rambunctious crowd. There were so many kids there it was unbelievable, but kids only made up the half of the multitude. Many of the people there were adults too, factory workers, immigrants, the underbelly of New York, all of whom just wanted their fair share.

"You guys see Spot ridin with Roosevelt earlier?" Race shouted back as the group weaved their way around people.

"Yeah I did," David replied, "Reckon it's high time Spot got his own carriage to go with his prestigious position in the news paper delivering industry."

"Could you understand any of that?" Crutchy asked everyone but David as he practically beat people away with his crutch.

"Dave don't talk like that," Jack said as they broke through the edge of the crowd and headed down the street which was practically deserted in comparison with the area that was the rally.

"Why not?" David asked.

"Cause I soak kids that go round talkin like that," Jack replied.

"Think Spot'll be governor one day?" Race asked.

"I'm not sure New York's ready," Jack replied.

"Hey!" Les said enthusiastically, but with a slightly huskier voice than was usual, "Do you think we could go Brooklyn sometime soon? I didn't get to go when you were first goin to talk to Spot and I wanna see the bridge. Boots said there was a bridge."

"You really wanna go to Brooklyn kid?" Race asked.

Les nodded.

"Alright," Race nodded, "Jack you gotta take the kid to Brooklyn, I would take him there in a second, but I owe a guy some money and he's wants me to pay it real bad, but I'm not in the financial situation ya know?"

Sarah laughed at this.

"Aww, she's a good one Jack," Race said, "You like the guys that ain't got no money don't ya toots?"

Sarah cleared her throat uncomfortably.

"That reminds me!" Race jumped up in excitement, "Jack Davey I got a surprise for you!"

"I can only imagine," David said rolling his eyes.

Jack paused and turned around to Crutchy who was laggin slightly.

"Hey Crutch you want us to slow down?" Jack asked concerned.

"Naw," Crutchy assured them waving his arms, "I'm just fine."

"I got these three babies back when we first started the strike and I thought the three of us could smoke em when it was all over," Race smiled and reached into his coat pocket, "I wanted to smoke em, but I saved em all this time."

Race then pulled out a brown paper bad that one would get when they purchased cigars, and a quarter he had in his pocket.

"Feast your eyes boys cause these are good ones," Race said opening the bag. Soon Race's face fell in slight disappointment.

"What's wrong?" asked Les.

"Uh," Racetrack smiled embarrassed, "I forgot I musta smoked em all myself…"

"I thought you said you was savin em until after the strike," Jack said smiling as well.

"Well the strike kept not ending," Race defended himself, "and I mean you was bein kinda a tightwad at one point…"

Race trailed off, and he put the brown bag back into his shirt

Jack suddenly remembered something that would make Racetrack forgive him for bein such a tightwad.

"So I know Medda always lets us in for free," Jack started, "but still happen to have all the dough Pulitzer gave me to work for im, I expect he'll be tryin to get it back soon so I'm thinkin we best spend it and not give him a chance."

He then pulled out of his pocket more money than he had ever had in his life. The bills were all bundled together as opposed to when he first got them. They had been crisp and straight as though Pulitzer had them made especially for him.

Racetrack smiled, "Jackie boy it just so happens that I need a buddy to go down the Sheepshed with me tomorrow and after thinking it through you've persuaded me."

"Oh I've persuaded you?" Jack asked smiling.

"This'll be how it works," Race explained, "as you know we haven't been working because of the strike so I've been outta money, kinda your fault Jack but I don't wanna point fingers, anyways we use your money, because well, you got some, and we use my track expertise to chose the winning horse, then we split the winnings. You got nothing to lose."

As Racetrack was explaining his foolproof plan to Jack, the others noticed that they had been joined by two others walking down the street in the opposite direction. One was a small girl no older than Les, and the other was more David and Race's age. They were both dressed in lavish clothing, which would usually convey wealth, but upon close inspection one could find that their dresses were tacky and dirty. The older one was talking while the younger one listened and giggled. Once the two girls saw the group of newsies and Sarah walking, the older one gestured across the street, and the younger immediately crossed it. The older one quickened her pace and starred walking directly towards them, but not chasing

"Whadda ya say Jackie?" Racetrack continued.

Jack opened his mouth to give an answer, but just as he took a breath the girl tripped and fell. Without thinking he immediately grabbed her and held her up pressed against his chest.

"Waoh!" Racetrack said, "here I got it."

He went behind her and helped stand her up.

"Ya good?" Jack asked.

"I beg your pardon masseurs," the girl replied in a French accent, close to tears.

From up close they could see that her was as shiny, smooth and pale as porcelain, which heavily contradicted large her nearly black eyes, and black hair in ringlet's. Her features were so petite that they looked as if they had been drawn on.

"Our pardon is granted toots," Race said smiling at her, "no need to beg unless you wanna."

"I am so clumsy, and zeez streets are so crooked zat I find I cannot walk on zem wizout falling ovair," she explained hurriedly.

"Are you okay?" Les asked coming up to her and pulling on her clothes.

"Aw," she said leaning over to be eye level with Les, "bonjour petit garcon! What is your age?"

"Well I'm almost te-h," Les stopped after Jack shot him a look and then coughed into his arm, "I'm seven Miss."

"You are by far zee most handsome man I have seen since coming to America,"

Les blushed smiling, and walked behind his sister, suddenly shy.

"Masseur?" the dark hair girl said turning to Racetrack.

"Racetrack," he said, "my name is Racetrack."

"Race…track," she repeated slowly, "Racetrack I could not help but notice your jauqette is made of a most beauteous material. May I touch it?"

Race smiled and nodded, "Sure you can touch it."

She smiled back, and moved closer to him. She grabbed his collar first and then moved down tracing her fingers around the buttons, looking at the stitching on the other side. As she did this Racetrack turned to David and said, "Yeah _she _can _touch it_." He repeated punching David's shoulder, and laughing at the crude joke he made. Sarah blushed at this but said nothing. David shook his head.

"Merci Racetrack," she said gazing up at him with wide eyes, "I must go, but I promise I will never forget you."

"I think it's gunna take a while for me to forget you too," Race replied, "at least longer than four minutes."

He looked at David again with a wide smile. David was not amused.

"Adieu kind Masseurs', and handsome Les," she said passing them and walking slowly down the street.

They all would have turned immediately back around and continued walking to the theatre, but Crutchy was making his way to them and even though they were focusing on Crutchy hobbling towards them with a big smile on his face, out of the corner of their eyes they could see at the end of the block the young girl had returned to their side of the street and reunited with her companion who was oddly enough laughing.

Crutchy soon caught up because they had stopped for so long.

"Hiya guys!" he said happily, "we're almost there can't you tell?"

"Yeah Crutchy," Jack said quietly. He David and Racetrack were all still looking at the girl they had just encountered who was laughing as she walked with her cohort towards the strike, and the anonymity one can only find in large crowds.

"Alright fellas," Race said after a long silence, "we're all thinkin it and I'm gunna say it. What the hell was that about?"

"Are we almost there?" Sarah asked slightly impatient.

"Yeah, yeah," Jack said putting his arm around her neck again and turning back to face the direction they were walking in.

They entered Irving Hall lobby within two minutes, and were greeted by an already celebrating Medda. There were newsies and sweatshop kids all over the place jumping, shouting, and overall just having a good time before tomorrow's work day rolled around again.

"Hello Boys!" Medda said loudly, "especially you doll." She pinched one of Les' cheeks.

"I wish I could have gone to the strike," Medda continued, "but you know Sunday shows and everything, I was just about to close up the theatre tomorrow, but then Blink and Mush come running in telling me the news and demanding I keep it open. It really is great what you boys did so as always everything is free of charge!"

"Oh no not today Medda!" Jack said reaching in his pocket.

"Yeah Medda today we're a few regular swells buyin our ways into a fancy place like this," Racetrack said with a huge smile on his face.

Just then Mush came sliding down the banister cigarette in mouth and no shirt on laughing, and Spot came running down the stairs shouting after him.

"I'm impressed," Medda laughed, "first you win a strike and now you're actually paying for things. It seems everything's changed with you Kelly."

"Yeah," said Racetrack, and he punched Jack's arm as Jack emptied his pockets, "everything's changed so pay the lady."

By this time Les had wandered off to find some sort of candy. As soon as Sarah noticed him missing she went off to look at him, and was followed by the occasional whistle.

"Race you saw me take my money outta this pocket and put it back in right?" said Jack motioning to his breast pocket.

"Sure did," Racetrack replied, "why?"

"It aint there no more," Jack said.

Racetrack broke out into laughter, and Spot ran by again this time without Mush.

"Hey you boys seen Mush," Spot asked, "did he run this way?"

"No why?" David asked because Race was too busy laughing and Jack was too busy looking for his money.

Spot sighed as though he was embarrassed and finally said quietly, "he has my walking stick."

David broke into a little smile at how childish Spot was being, and upon seeing this Spot walked off in search of his cane with a gold tip.

Finally able to talk after the laughter Racetrack said, "You dumbass! How could you lose it from the time we were twenty feet from the theatre to now?!"

"It aint lost," Jack replied making a fist out of the temptation to blacken one of Race's already dark and sunken in eyes.

"Well then where is it?" Race asked Jack as if Jack was simple.

"It's alright Jack," Medda assured him, she had been watching the whole time with a smile, "you know you don't have to pay for anything here not after what your father-"

"No," Jack said, "that's why I _want_ to pay because I don't wanna think I ever had to take charity from him."

Medda had stopped smiling now, and said, "I understand Jack," before going off to join the festivities.

"You defiantly lost it Jack," Crutchy nodded.

"I didn't lose it!" Jack snapped back.

Racetrack started to say, "Well then where is it?"

But was interrupted by David who interjected, "Race check your pockets!"

"Why?" Racetrack demanded as he stuck his hands in his two pants pockets.

"Just do it," David insisted, "and check all of them."

"I aint got nothing in my pockets except the brown bag and a quarter," Race replied and he reached into his breast pocket where both those items had been, but pulled out an empty hand. All his pockets were empty just as Jack's were.


	2. Chapter 2

2 - The Occurrences at Irving Hall

"Aw, boys looks someone picked your pocket," said Medda smiling and patting Jack on the shoulder.

"What you smilin about Medda?" Racetrack demanded, "Jack just lost any possibility of gettin some real money in this lifetime."

Jack who had no intension of going to the tracks the next day with Race even if he hadn't lost the money rolled his eyes. Just then a large group of newsies, among them Blink, Skittery, Dutchy, Specs, and Spot who had reclaimed his walking stick, and was holding it like a sceptor, came over to Medda with the purpose of convincing Medda to sing another song for them.

"Alright boys," Medda said, needing little persuasion. Just as she was about to precede up the stairs to the theatre, Medda turned and grabbed Racetrack by the collar saying, "Come sing with me Race, and you can forget about how poor you are!"

"How I poor I am forgotten!" Race said and ran up the stairs with Medda and the boys.

"Alright Medda!" the news boys shouted as she and Racetrack went through the double doors leading to the theatre to put on whatever show they could come up with on the spot.

This left David and Jack together in the noisy Irving Hall lobby surrounded by yet another crowd of over enthusiastic celebrators.

"I should find my sister," David said.

"That's alright Dave," Jack replied, "I can look for her."

"Well how about we both go?" David suggested looking around at his fellow newsies and thinking he should stick with Jack.

Jack nodded, and walked in the direction Sarah had gone in, in search of the wandering Les.

"So Jack, uh I mean Francis," David started to say, "which is it you wanna be called anyways?"

"Well I haven't been Francis for about three years," Jack replied, "I actually think by now the only people who would know me by Francis are Snyder and my fadar, and they ain't gunna be talking to me anytime soon. So it'll be Jack Kelly from now on."

David smiled, "Sure Jack."

"How long do you think you'll be able to join us newsies on the street before your pops arm heals and you gotta go back to bein a scabber at school?" asked Jack.

Both boys were scanning the crowd for Sarah and little Les.

"I think it'll be a while," David confessed, "his arm is nearly healed, but once it's better there's no guarantee the factory will take him back, in fact I'll be surprised if they do."

"Well that's great Dave!" exclaimed Jack.

David looked at him.

"I mean great that you'll get to be a real newsie," continued Jack, "not that your pop's outta a job permanently."

"Look there they are," David pointed to a corner of the lobby where Sarah sat coughing as the boys around her passed a cigarette, with Les asleep in her lap.

"David!" she cried as she saw Dave and Jack approaching, "We really should go. Les is asleep and Mama will be worried."

David sighed he knew she was right, but he didn't want to leave just yet. He was pretty sure that the people he was celebrating tonight with would be his coworkers for a long time, and he wanted to know the news boys from other areas like Harlem and Queens. Though David decided he would probably stay away from the Brooklyn newsies.

"Don't go yet," Jack said to Sarah sitting down next to her, "I wanted to talk to you."

"Alright," said Sarah, "what did you want to say?"

"Um. I wanted to talk to you alone," Jack replied.

"Oh," Sarah said and glanced and David.

"Just come with me," Jack said as he got up, took her hand and pulled her up.

Sarah set Les down with her free hand and shouted back to David, "Stay with him!" as Jack pulled her away.

David sat down next to Les who was now sleeping on his side.

"Hey fellas," he said smiling to the boys around him.

"You want?" the boy next to David asked with a thick Brooklyn accent. He then handed David a small white tube.

"A cigarette right?" David asked taking it from the boys hand.

The other boys laughed.

"This has a little more of a kick," said the boy on the other side of David, also obviously from Brooklyn.

David shrugged and took a long drag. Too long maybe. His eyes began to water and his lungs felt as though there was a giant weight on top of them. He coughed all the smoke out.

"No you gotta hold it in," said the boy who had talked of the kicking cigarette, "try again."

David nodded and put the cigarette to his lips again, this time when he inhaled along with the watering eyes and weight on his lungs was an intense burning deep in his chest. The longer he held his breath the more that fire seemed to spread, and he tried to not think of words like "searing," and "melting." Finally he could take it no longer, and he blew the smoke from his mouth.

"Alright kid!" the one next to David said, and slapped David on the back. David coughed from the impact of the boy's hand, and a little tuft of smoke came out.

"Hey what's your name?" the same boy asked.

"Dave," David said rubbing his chest, the burning had not gone away.

"Well heya Dave, I'm Ace a Diamonds, but yous can call me Ace," the boy replied, "This here's Butterfingers, Ox, and Pink."

The boys all nodded when their name was said.

"We're from Brooklyn," Ace a Diamonds continued.

David nodded. He wasn't sure he'd be able to talk with the pain he had in his lungs, but he tried anyways, "Is carryin the banner good in Brooklyn?"

"It's good," said Butterfingers, "almost as good as how Ox looks like an Ox right now."

"No I don't!" Ox said as he put two large hands over his eyes.

"Ox, how do you hide your horns in the daylight?" Pink asked as he handed the cigarette to David.

It was almost the same experience as last time: watering eyes, searing suffocation, but this time David didn't cough as much, and as much as his lungs did burn, it was a wonderful burning, and he felt as though something beautiful had been standing right in front of him all his life, and he was only now properly seeing it.

"Gettin better?" Ace asked.

"Yeah," David replied, and he kept saying the word slowly, "yeah...yeah...yeah..." feeling how his mouth formed every letter.

Everything was far away and it seemed the only sound was his heartbeat, blasting in his ear with every thud.

"Here David," the cigarette had come around to him again.

Once again he felt the bur, but now it was less painful, and more relaxing. As he put the cigarette to his lips he made the realization that yes, my lungs will be on fire, and then instead of tensing up or dreading the pain, he simply acknowledged it's existence making the drag much easier.

"You know, Brooklyn's alright," David said to Ace as he handed him the cigarette.

"We;; we did save your ass," Butterfingers said slowly, "that...one time."

"Yeah," David giggled, "that was great, and Spot is something with a slingshot."

"The best. We have this game with sling shots in Brooklyn you should play sometime Dave," said one of the boys.

David couldn't tell them apart anymore because they all looked and spoke the same. The only ones he could really differentiate were Pink because he kept handing David the cigarette, and Ace, because he kept taking it away. Les was not woken by any of this and continued sleeping in perfect innocence.

In a deserted rehearsal hall on the top, a place that would seem like oceans away to David, at that exact moment, Sarah and Jack were taking advantage of the fact that everyone else was preoccupied. Sarah hadn't minded kissing Jack for the first time in front of all the other newsies, but after hearing all the degrading remarks, she made a vow to herself never to display so much affection to the public.

Jack had Sarah pressed up against a set piece of some sort, maybe it was a tower from when Medda had a gig where she was Rapunzel. Neither seemed to care. Jack, being the more aggressive of the two had his hands squeezing her waist and pulling her closer. She had her hands placed gently around his neck.

"Jack," Sarah said pulling away.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Oh nothing," she replied, "I just cant believe that this is happening. I thought you were going to leave for Santa Fe, and I'd never see you again."

"Yeah well, I guess people change," Jack said shrugging and then lunged his face forward to continue kissing her but she moved away.

"Jack I have to go," Sarah explained sadly, "my parents will be worried, and Les is already asleep, and I don't know what trouble David's gotten in already but I really must go."

Jack said, "tease," under his breath.

Sarah heard this and turned around smiling at him and said, "I'm not going anywhere and neither are you. We have all the time in the world."

He sighed, nodded and as she passed him to leave, squeezed her waist.

When Sarah and Jack reached David his eyes were half shut, and other than his intense blinking, he was as still as the sleeping Les.

"David?" Sarah said patting his shoulder.

"Sarah," David replied looking up at her with bloodshot eyes, "your hair is brown."

Then he and the Brooklyn kids he was with all laughed as though that was the funniest thing any of them had ever heard.

"Davey boy," Jack said suppressing laughter, "I think you've had enough and now it's time to go home."

"What's wrong with him," Sarah demanded.

"Aw nothin," Jack assured her, "he just had a little taste of Reefer and now he's buggin or something. It happens to everyone."

"Will he be alright?" Sarah asked looking into David's eyes and trying to get him to stand on his own, while David wavered between complete silence and obnoxious laughter.

"Oh he'll be fine in the morning," Jack said no longer hiding his amusement.

Jack then went to where Les was sleeping and gently shook him awake.

"He big guy," Jack whispered to Les, "Your brother ain't in no condition to carry you home. You'll have to tough it out and walk."

Sarah, hearing these words turned to Jack and asked, "Aren't you going to carry him?"

"No I'm here," Jack replied.

Sarah smiled and nodded, but she was hurt that Jack wasn't going to be walking her home.

"Ya got em?" Jack called after Sarah as she guided her two half conscious brothers back home. Sarah didn't look back or say anything, but Jack took this as reassurance and decided to go into the theatre and see if Medda and Race were still singing.

It really was late now. Medda was in one of the seats in the audience with her feet up on the chair in front of her. Some boys were around her climbing over chairs to be nearer to her. About a dozen boys were on stage and under the leadership of Racetrack, were singing a song about a one legged girl.

Jack waved to Medda who smiled back. She was happy, but she looked more tired and older than Jack had ever seen her. He went up to the balcony where there were less kids and he could really think.

He found a seat in the back Where he couldn't see Racetrack and the others, but he could hear them, and Jack put his feat up as Medda had. Things were changing in New York: Medda was getting older and who knows how much longer she could continue her career; he, Jack, was in an actual relationship; and the newsies had proved to, "The World" that it wasn't the rich fellas at the top who had the power, it was the poor masses who were truly in complete control. Though it was only the summer, it was the winter of the century. In January it would be 1900, and then in April he'd be eighteen and an adult. Could he still be a newsie then? No, Jack knew he had to do something with his life, but what? With barely an education and a criminal record the choices were limited, but one thing was certain: Jack Kelly would not be a newsie for the rest of his life.

And this was Jack's last rational thought as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
